Thursday. To bed not long after nine to pretty much give up the ghost, turn out the lights and sleep until quite close to six. Which is good. Close to six. Up and out the door to walk to breakfast on what looks to become a sunny day, the East Bay Times sitting at the front door to the apartment house as I was leaving (our apartment house manager, who gets up even earlier than I do, leaves my papers at my hallway front door when he picks up his copy of the Wall Street Journal.) and so I had all three papers in tow.
The Eggs Benedict this morning along with the country potatoes, fruit cup and coffee for breakfast, taking my time and heading home finally, the light bright, the temperature nice, a day with nothing on the schedule ahead. The usual thoughts to do this and do that, which is a good sign, but wondering if I'll start on, let alone do any of them on the ever growing list. A little odd sitting here thinking I might.
Later. A walk over to the lake on the way to the ATM on Lakeshore in a long sleeved shirt, comfortable in a long sleeve shirt without a jacket, taking pictures of another nest building cormorant and of a guy who was sporadically breaking out into a dance as he listened to whatever he was listening to on his phone. I should teach myself to use the camera video since I didn't really catch a decent picture showing his moves. How many times have I said that?
On to the ATM and then pretty much right back to the apartment by noon, hearing activity in that building they're stripping in preparation for the residential apartments. Why I mention this, I don't know.
Evening. Can't say I've taken advantage of the day for anything other than the usual hang around the apartment stuff: television and more television, the web, the tablet, two minutes on the guitar. Didn't even think to look at the ever growing list of things I would like to get done. How does that relate to the day and whether or not it was a success?
Then decide on success?